


Fettered Tongue

by Carcy



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carcy/pseuds/Carcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili is something of a chatterbox. He knows this for a fact; everyone tells him so. Given that, he finds it hard to understand why it is that when he needs them most, words fail him. Or, 3 times Kili couldn't find the right words and 1 time they all just came out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fettered Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to let you guys know that this story is also posted on ff.net under a different username, so please don't have me hauled up for plagiarism! :)

ONE – The hardest words

 The first time is just after he reaches his majority. The shadows are long in the healing wards, still and dark against the paleness of the half-closed partition curtains. There is no need to draw them completely to obtain privacy, seeing that the ward is empty but for them. Kili’s eyes strain, but there is nothing to see except the dark, sharp edges thrown into relief by the soft light of a tall candle on the cabinet.

 

There is a soft padded chair to one side of the bed, but Kili has shoved it aside. He kneels on the cold hard floor by the bed, resting his head and arms on the mattress edge when he gets tired. His knees ache from the hours of waiting, but still he holds on. He will not leave Fili alone, not before his brother wakes up.  His mother and uncle have both retired to rest, satisfied with the healers’ pronouncement that Fili will be fine and just needs sleep to heal.

 

They cannot know about the guilt that is ripping him into shreds. If he had waited, if he had not rushed headlong into the fight as he always does, if he had heeded his brother’s warning… Maybe then none of this would have happened. But no, it had been his first time hunting without the adults, and he had felt compelled to prove himself, so he chased through the forest alone after the wolves, ignoring Fili’s cautions. Only to have them surround him and discover that the thick foliage had screened the wolves, and they were far, far greater in number than he had thought.

 

He still remembers the icy fear paralyzing his limbs when his arrows ran out, and he had only his small dagger to twirl at them. In his heart, he gave himself up for lost. Fate had been kind to him, however. Fili had come in time, his twin swords slashing and his wrath sweeping through the beasts like a tidal wave, completely disregarding his own safety. They survived, but Kili cannot forgive himself.

 

Now it is too late for what-ifs. His brother lies before him, still and pale from all the blood he has lost, looking as weak as a newborn kitten. And all Kili wants to do is shake him awake and say _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_ a thousand times, and _please come back to me I am lost without you_ , but the words will not come.

 

Instead, he kneels at Fili’s bedside, holding his brother’s rough hand in his own, silently pleading with him to wake. Eventually he falls asleep like that, head on his arms, Fili’s hand still caught between them, resting on the edge of the bed.

 

When he wakes, it is to the soft sensation of a callused hand stroking his hair. He curls into the touch instinctively. It takes a few seconds for him to realise where he is, but as soon as he does, his mind flashes into overdrive. He looks up straight into his brother’s loving eyes, and then he is shaking, drowning in the rush of feelings he struggles to put into words. But with Fili, he does not need to; his brother understands everything he feels, everything he does, everything he is. Fili does not speak either, only puts his arms around him, and forgiveness is in his touch.

  

 

TWO – If tomorrow never comes

 

The second time is in Erebor, the night before they are due to face the Elves and Men in battle. He and Fili huddle together in one of the halls, just the two of them in a maze of caverns and hard stone and steep drops -who knew you could fall from such a height even underground?- far too big for their tiny Company. Although he was suffused with pride when he first laid eyes on the grandeur of his ancestral home, there is no room for pride or any other emotion in him now, nothing but the fear that threatens to suffocate him alive.

 

Well, that is not _entirely_ true. The fear may be powerful and crushing, but it stems from other emotions: love for his friends and kin, and something deeper still, which Kili has not tried to put a name to yet, that he is not sure he really understands. It puts him in mind of sunlight and blue skies, and play-fights with his brother as they fall to the ground, tangled in a mess of warm limbs and laughter.

 

Both that unnamed emotion and the fear magnify hundredfold as Fili asks what he is thinking. He is silent and unresponsive as he strives to come to terms with his feelings. And all he can think of is _if I fall tomorrow, will you ever know how much I loved you?_

 

He cannot share his thoughts with his brother, though he is desperate for the comforting reassurance he knows Fili will give him. He still does not understand why it is suddenly so important to _tell_ his brother of his love. Surely he must know, for has Kili not shown it a thousand times in looks and actions? But the doubt whispers in the back of his mind, _if I fall, will those memories be enough for you to hold on to?_ _Will they be enough to last forever?_ And the fear engulfs him, but still he cannot bring himself to -does not know how to- speak.

 

He is startled by his brother’s firm touch when he grabs his hand. “Kili, come with me.” Fili’s face is flint and his eyes are chips of steel. He does not look afraid, merely determined, as becomes the crown prince of Erebor that he now is.

 

His elder brother’s courage shames Kili further, for is he not now too a prince of Erebor? But there is no solace for him in that naked fact. All he wants is to see Fili safe and whole in his arms, and for this to be over.

 

He clings tightly to his brother now, afraid of being left behind as Fili leads him swiftly down twisting, dark passageways. He has no idea where they are going. He knows that Thorin has ordered lights to be placed in the main corridors, but the way they are taking is pitch black, so they must be heading somewhere entirely new.

 

Fili finally stops, and he assumes they have arrived. The place seems just like any other to him, but it is evidently familiar to his brother, who tells him to wait. He sees the pinprick of a match being lit, and in a few minutes his sight returns as flames kindle to life in a large brass brazier.

 

The hall is not as large as he had expected, merely the size of a large room. At one end of it is an altar as wide as the room, and into the stone face before the altar is carved a magnificent statue, running from the ceiling to the floor.

 

As Kili walks over to admire it, he sees that it is a powerful male figure standing before an anvil. The beginnings of a golden object are held in one hand; a hammer in the other. The god’s face is turned away from his tools towards the viewer, as though pausing at his work to listen to their prayers. The statue’s bearded face and wise, kind eyes are what really capture Kili’s attention. Despite it being only a figure of stone, it seems to speak to him. Below the figure runs an inscription in ancient Khuzdul.

 

“Mahal the Maker,” comes Fili’s soft voice from behind him. “This used to be the royal family’s private prayer room; I found it the other day.”

 

Loving arms envelop Kili from the back as his brother whispers, “I know you are afraid, as am I. There is no shame in that. But if you cannot speak of it to me, I pray that you will to Him.”

 

And Kili marvels, once again, at how well his brother knows him.

 

 

THREE – No matter what

 

Thorin has ruled Erebor for a good five years now, with Fili and Kili as his loyal heirs. They have grown into their roles during that time. Fili is already widely praised for his foresight and calm judgment, so much so that his people predict he will one day be a great king, while Kili is well suited to become a skilled general and advisor.

 

They do not spend all their days together as they used to. No matter how much they may wish otherwise, duties and training call them separately. At night, however, it is a different story. Propriety deems that they have separate bedchambers, but both are connected through inner doors to a private sitting room they share. Thus it often ends in them spending the night in each other’s arms, with no one any the wiser, though they suspect that Thorin and Dis know. In any case, they do not speak of it, even to each other.

 

Kili has long since identified the haunting, terrifying feeling that blindsided him on the eve of the Battle of the Five Armies, as the bards have named it. Unfortunately, like many before him, he has discovered that knowing something does not necessarily change anything. During the silent nights when sleep is elusive, he lies next to his brother and looks out the window at the cold stars over the mountainside. Some nights when the stabs of guilt become so sharp that he can barely breathe, he slips out of bed and kneels before the window, calling upon Mahal and the rest of the Valar to forgive him. What they are doing is wrong, so very wrong, and he knows it, but he cannot help himself.

 

Fili often wakes to find him there, sleeping in a heap on the floor, salty tracks still streaking his face. But he knows better than to ask, and instead gathers an exhausted Kili into his arms, offering kisses soft as butterfly wings and as chaste as ice. And for the time being, Kili finds respite as right and wrong and everything else is swallowed up in the blessed relief that is Fili’s love for him.

 

Perhaps it is inevitable that one day, they forget to lock the sitting room entrance, and a serving girl walks in to overhear soft moans of pleasure which escalate into Kili screaming his brother’s name as he climaxes. To her credit, she does not waste time spreading idle gossip, but instead goes straight to the king. That she does so without fearing for her life perhaps marks the strength of the people’s belief in Thorin’s honour.

 

When Fili and Kili are summoned to the king’s quarters immediately, they have no idea of the storm brewing. Thorin’s countenance is dark and forbidding, but Dis’ voice is sorrowful as she pleads with her sons to offer an explanation, any explanation that will prove their innocence. Fili lies glibly, his natural frankness tempered by years of diplomatic training, and he has them half-convinced. But then they turn to Kili, and it is a disaster. Panic freezes his tongue; when he finally speaks, haltingly, it is a mass of contradictions and confusion, and he can tell that no one believes him.

 

To his surprise, they are not banished. Thorin loves his sister and sister-sons too well for that, and he knows besides that the shame would reflect upon them all. Far better to keep it quiet, in his opinion. He does advise them very strongly to reconsider their relationship, reminding them of duty, honour and family. At the end of it, however, he promises to deal with the serving girl, and his voice falters as he says, “Do what you must.” Dis places a hand over her brother’s, and as Kili catches the glance they exchange, he wonders if perhaps they understand better than he could ever imagine.

 

 

FOUR – Denouement

 

They return to their rooms, having been given the day off by Thorin to ‘discuss matters’. Kili has not dared to look at or speak to his brother the whole time, afraid of prying eyes and pointed ears along the way.

 

After they enter -and lock- their rooms, however, he senses immediately that something is wrong. Fili ignores him as he deliberately lowers himself onto the couch. He stares straight ahead, stiff and unyielding.

 

“Brother?” ventures Kili. “What is upsetting you? We are not banished, is that- is that not a good thing?”

 

The elder dwarf’s normally sunny expression is clouded, and his features twist into a sneer at Kili’s words. Kili begins to feel frightened. “Fili, what’s wrong? Are you angry with me for not lying well enough before? I am truly sorry! Fili, talk to me!”

 

His brother’s face crumples, and before Kili knows what is happening, the other has drawn his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them. His shoulders are shaking, his chest heaving with sobs.

 

Kili’s mouth is agape in shock. This is all wrong! Fili is supposed to be the strong one, the one holding, reassuring and comforting him. Truly alarmed now, he gets down onto the floor before him, placing a hesitant hand on his brother’s leg. “Fili, please, tell me. Why are you crying?” There is no response. “Is it- do you not wish to be with me anymore, now that we have been discovered?” He feels as though someone is tearing a great chunk right out of his chest as he says the words, and it is hard, so hard to wait for an answer. He had been afraid to face Thorin before; now, he would take banishment a thousand times over rather than have Fili turn away from him. He thinks of the many endless nights of prayer, and a dry humourless laugh escapes him. Perhaps this is Mahal’s answer, to take Fili from him.

 

Fili’s head shoots up at his last words, eyes red and raw with grief but nonetheless questioning. His voice is thick with unshed tears as he asks, “Why would I ever do that? It is you who are ashamed, who have always been ashamed- you who will leave me now!”

 

“What are you talking about?” gasped Kili, unable to believe his ears. “I am not ashamed of you!”

 

“You are not ashamed of me,” says Fili, and his words are sharp with bitterness. “You are ashamed of us, of this- whatever this is! So we can never speak of it, no matter how much it hurts us; we cannot even put a name to it. I will tell you now, Kili- you are in love with your own brother, and it is incest!”

 

Kili jerks his hand back as though he has been burnt. “Why are you saying this?”

 

Fili laughs; the sound is caustic to Kili’s ears, and he winces as his brother speaks. “So that you can leave me now. Is that not what you have always wanted, to be rid of me, of this disgusting, filthy- thing?”

 

Kili punches him.

 

He achieves his aim; Fili, reeling backwards holding his left cheek, falls silent in stunned surprise.

 

Kili glares at him, arms crossed across his chest. “Now that I finally have your attention. I love you, you stupid orc! I’ve always loved you, even before I knew what this feeling was. Yes, I’ve had doubts, who would not? Everything we’ve been taught tells us this is wrong. But here’s the thing- _I don’t care_ _anymore_. For a moment there, I thought I was about to lose you forever, and I didn’t realise until then what that meant. I don’t care what anyone says or does. All I know is I’ll never stop loving you, and that’s all that matters now. And if you accuse me of wanting to leave one more time, I’ll break your nose. Am I clear?”

 

Fili’s eyes are suspiciously bright again, but all he says is, “It took all this for you to say you love me?”

 

Kili laughs, and the happy untroubled sound dispels the thick tension in the room. “Let me get something for that,” he offers, gesturing at the swiftly blossoming purple bruise on Fili’s cheek.

 

That night, wrapped up in Fili’s arms as he falls asleep, he dreams. And in his dream he sees a wise, bearded face, ageless eyes and a deep, soothing voice that reminds him a little of Thorin, saying, _Be at peace, little one_. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know the ending is somewhat rushed, sorry about that. Just can't think how to fix it :( Please let me know what you thought, I really appreciate feedback! :)


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